One of my points of pride as a mother is that my daughter has had a homemade, from-scratch birthday cake every year.
From
her first birthday, when I was concerned she had a dairy allergy so
found an egg-free, dairy-free cake recipe that actually tasted pretty
good (and was decorated with Cheerios and Cool Whip -- which I hate,
its smell, its texture, its taste, its very existence) to last year,
when I made her a chocolate frosted chocolate cake with "prinkles" she
chose herself, I've dragged out the stand mixer and the baking pans the
first weekend in December for three years now.
Which I'd feel a hell of a lot better about if my cakes didn’t suck.
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